Caught
by Sam M. Holmes
Summary: AU Superfamily What happened when the dads found out about Peter's extracurricular activities.


I totally ship Superfamily. Don't judge.

Marvel owns all of the characters and organizations.

Caught

Peter scanned the burning building, ducking through the smoke. He flipped over a burning timber. A voice yelped from the back room. He swung through the fire, searching for the source of the voice. His senses fell onto a small female child huddling in the corner.

"Are you alright?!" he called through the smoke. The spandex mask wasn't the best when it came to protection. He coughed into his forearm, grunting. The girl screamed, scrambling for the hero. Her tiny fingers latched onto his shoulders. "Hey, hey… it's okay. I'm going to get you out of here." He webbed out the window, grabbing a hold on a ledge.

_Psssssh…_

Peter's ears perked up. Gas. He jumped out of the window just as an explosion rocked the building. The shockwave threw the two kids into the other building. Peter wrapped his arms around the girl, trying to shield her from the blast, but he connected hard with the building. She was knocked from his arms. The contact jarred his senses, but he could hear her scream. Luckily, they weren't too high up. Peter hit the ground, moaning in pain. Another explosion hit the building. Peter was thrown backward again. His vision went all fuzzy. Great. A concussion. How was he going to explain that? Fire filled his vision, and he felt nauseous. The girl was burning to death. His hand flew to his stomach. It was warm and sticky. The last thing Peter heard was the scream of agony from the burning child.

* * *

Steve was walking down the street when the building exploded. He didn't know why he was walking down the slums of New York City, but here he was. After the first explosion, the earth shook beneath his feet. He steadied himself, looking up at the burning building. He ripped open his backpack, tossing it aside. He rummaged through it, tossing out his sketchbook and a hundred wooden pencils. His fingers locked on his shield, compacted to fit in his bag. He whipped it open, hearing the vibranium click open. His other hand found a cell phone. Steve dialed quickly, bringing it to his ear.

"Tony! Tony, can you hear me?"

"_There's no need to yell, honey. I can hear ya!_" Tony's voice mocked over the phone.

"I've got a fire here! I'm going in!"

Tony became serious. "_Hear ya, Cap. I'll be there in five._" They hung up.

Steve raced forward into an alleyway next to the building. He could hear the fire engines racing towards the building, but he needed to get people out. He scanned the windows, leaping over trash cans. His foot caught on something, making his pinwheel forward. Steve steadied himself, looking down. It was a charred body, too small to be more than a child. Sympathy panged in his stomach. He peered down the alley, eyes widening further. A scrawny figure was hunched against the wall. Steve bent over to take a better look. Spiderman rested against the wall with a large piece of glass sticking from his stomach. Steve lifted up his mask slightly to check for a pulse. He was still alive. A shot from a familiar repulsor cleared away some glass. Tony would check for survivors. Steve needed to get Spiderman to the hospital. Fast. He hoisted the man into his arms, shocked at the weight. He weighed no more than his son Peter did. Steve noted this and ran off towards the approaching emergency vehicles.

* * *

Tony grumbled in his sleep, snorting from the hospital chair. The waiting room was filled with people, sick and well, young and old. Steve leaned against the wall, waiting for news on the young hero. They had convinced the staff not to fully remove his mask in order to keep their secret identity. Tony had given Steve hell about it. Steve had to explain that just because Tony didn't care about his identity, some heroes took great pride in keeping their hero lives separate from their citizen lives.

"Mr. Rogers?" A voice startled him from his daydreaming.

"That's me."

"Spiderman is out of the ER. We're moving him to his own room. He should be fine in a couple of days. The glass did not puncture anything important, but we need to keep his under observation," the nurse chirped. Steve nodded. "I'll take you to him." Steve gently shook Tony awake.

Tony groaned, blinking his eyes open. His eyes softened when he saw Steve. "Hey. Please tell me we developed some fetish for rubbing alcohol…"

Steve reddened slightly. "We're in the hospital, Tony. Spiderman is out of the ER. We need to see him." Tony nodded, letting Steve yank him out of the chair. He moaned as he heard his back crack.

"Note: hospital chairs are _not_ comfortable. Even the squishy ones," Tony waved his hands for emphasis. They followed the nurse down the hallway to a rather spacious room. There were two patients separated by a loose curtain. There was a pane of glass separating the rest of the hospital from them. Steve walked in to the room, listening patiently to the nurse's diagnosis. Tony's eyes were locked on the figure on the bed. Spiderman looked tiny against the hospital sheet, leads puncturing his pale arm. He reminded Tony of Peter, but his son was 'studying' with Gwen and then he was going to stay the night at a friend's house. Steve had been hesitant, but Tony convinced him that it was better that he did it with their permission than to have him sneak around. His mask covered the top of his face, leaving his nose and mouth open for the plastic cannula sticking from his nostrils. His chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm. His heart monitor binged on time. "Aren't you at all curious?"

Steve lifted his head. "Hm?"

"Aren't you curious to whom this guy is?"

"Tony…" Steve shook his head. "You may not be aware of it, but a person's identity is the most important thing next to reputation. You are not taking off his mask." Steve yawned loudly.

"You seem exhausted," Tony hooked a finger through Steve's khakis. Steve reddened again, gently trying to pry Tony off of him. "I can help you relax…"

"Tony, it is not the time," Steve pushed him gently away. He placed a quick chaste kiss on Steve's forehead, but pulled away before Tony could lap up anything else. Tony stuck out his bottom lip childishly. An alarm caused them to leap out of their skins. The heart monitor over Spiderman hit flat line. Steve pulled Tony out with them to the viewing hall as the nurses flooded in. They stared at the scene, silently hoping that they could save the hero. A nurse brought out a defibrillator. They charged them quickly, placing them on the hero's exposed chest.

"Clear!"

The shock rocked Spiderman's whole body. It was enough to knock the mask from his face. Light, poofy brown hair was plastered to the man's, the _boy's_, forehead. His eyes were closed in a mock form of sleep. Tony's mouth dropped open, his whole body turning cold. Steve had to forcefully yank him backwards to stop Tony from flying through the viewing room. "_Peter?!_"

"Clear!"

Unsuccessful.

Steve couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He hugged Tony to him, tears wetting his light brown hair. Peter couldn't be there. He was at Gwen's, fooling around. Or maybe at that kid, Wade's house, but he was not on the hospital bed before them. The dads watched in horror as the nurses turned up the power.

"Clear!"

Nothing. Many of the nurses were looking grim. Tony banged a hand against the glass.

"Don't you _fucking_ give up!" he screamed, chest tightening.

The nurses heard him.

"Clear!"

_Beep._

Steve's eyes widened, hope shining almost tangibly over his face.

_Beep._

Tony breathed a sigh of relief, letting his hand rest on the window. It had felt like everything inside him had broken. He let Steve hug him, burying his head into his husband's chest. He knew it was a danger for heroes. Especially with the villains that New York faced on a daily basis, but it was the farthest thing on their mind to let their son fight. They were allowed in the room, and both fell asleep touching their son.

* * *

Peter awoke with a start, yanking his hand away. He panicked, only seeing fire and hearing the screams of the little girl. Strong hands held him down. Words left his ears, only to be replaced with a familiar screaming. Peter slowly realized it was him. Peter opened his eyes, focusing on what was holding him down.

"Peter! Calm down! We're here. You're okay…" Steve coaxed.

"P… Pops?" Peter blinked. He tried to sit up, but pain wracked through his thin body. "Gah! What…? Where…? Why…?"

"Shh…" Steve ran a hand through Peter's hair. Peter closed his eyes again, trying to regain his composure. "It's okay." Peter hummed appreciatively. Steve left his son for a moment, reaching over to shake Tony awake. The dark haired billionaire snorted into the sheet, fists clenching. Peter placed a hand on the back of his dad's head.

"Dad, wake up," he coaxed. Tony lifted his head, beard fluffed up.

"Peter?" Tony smiled for a moment, but it was replaced with a scowl. Peter's eyes widened. Oh shit. In Tony's hand, his Spiderman mask winked up at him mockingly. They knew. Steve looked more relieved, but Tony looked like he had eaten something toxic. "How do you feel?" he monotoned.

"I'm alright…" Peter led off.

Steve shook his head. "Tony, not now."

Tony tossed away the mask, jumping to his feet. "I've had enough time to think about this, Peter. And I don't know if I should ground you or skin you alive."

"Tony!" Steve grabbed his arm. Tony smacked it away.

"I just… I need to talk to your father about this…"

"He's your son too, Tony!"

"Not when he pisses me off, Stars and Stripes!"

Peter pressed against the hospital bed, wishing he could disappear. He twisted towards the wall, only to hiss in pain. The bandages on his ribs were stained with blood. He hit the nurse button. Seconds later, his parents were ushered out of the room again, arguing with each other and the nurses. Peter rested as they poked and prodded. Once his dads started to agree with each other, he was screwed.

* * *

Days had passed.

Peter healed.

His dads argued.

The Avengers had transferred Peter to the Tower, fixing up a med bay worthy of SHIELD. Bruce helped with homework, deciding that Peter needed to catch up on his math. Thor would sit by his bed and sneak him sweets. Clint and Natasha berated him for getting into trouble, but in the end, both of them would bend. On occasion, Steve and Tony would stop by, but never together and not for very long. Peter's wounds healed, but nightmares plagued his dreams. All he could see was the little girl.

One of these nights found a rainstorm hovering over the Tower. Peter tossed and turned on his bed, crying out. She was burning, pieces of skin flaking off. But it wasn't just her. His entire family was in flames, but they didn't realize it. They screamed, but they were blaming Peter for their unknown pain. He couldn't save them. Peter screamed awake, falling out of his bed. He never hit the ground. His eyes snapped open, caught by the jolt. Steve was on his knees, keeping Peter from the ground. Peter wrapped his arms around his father, crying into his chest.

"I… I killed her. Sh… she… b…burned!" Peter sobbed.

"I know…" Steve sighed. He cradled his almost too big son in his arms.

"I… I should h… have told you!" Peter choked out. He shook his head fiercely. "N… now you're f… fighting again. 'M… sorry!"

Steve stroked his hair, completely relaxed. "It wasn't your fault." He looked up. Peter followed his eyes. Tony leaned against the doorway, watching his family. With a nod from Steve, he knelt next to them. "Your dad and I have been talking."

"Extensively," Tony breathed.

"And we're both upset about this." Steve wiped away Peter's tears. The seventeen year old shrunk in his lap. "But we're more upset that you felt that you couldn't come to us about this."

"We both know what it means to be a hero, Pete," Tony smiled. "We know it's hard." He tapped his arc reactor. "And we know you wouldn't want to stop."

"I… don't," Peter nodded. "But that girl…!"

"Sometimes you lose," Steve's eyes darkened. "But you can't give up."

Peter was dumbstruck. They wanted him to continue. He had expected yelling, screaming, but all he got was a calm conversation. Tony shifted, crossing his legs in front of him. "I can still be Spiderman?"

"With a few conditions, yes." Tony sighed deeply before continuing. "One, I make your costume. _No_ more spandex. Two, you train with us. I knew of your powers. Why we didn't make the connection before now, I don't know. Clint and Natasha will be giving you hand-to-hand combat lessons. Three, you're home by ten."

"Midnight," Peter quipped.

"Eleven."

"Done."

Tony couldn't help but smile. He was so glad that his family was, once more, whole.

* * *

Peter swung over New York. Wind whistled in his ears. Absentmindedly, he looked down at his watch. 10:59. Great. He swung a little faster, trying desperately to get home before either dad noticed. A few minutes later, he landed expertly on the balcony. Tearing off his mask, he crept across the living room of their flat. All the lights were out, but a figure was hunched on an armchair. It reached over and pulled on a lamp. It was Uncle Clint. Peter hunched his shoulders in defeat, looking down at his watch.

"Come on, I'm only five minutes late…"

Clint said nothing. His bow was across his lap, and he looked extremely irritated.

"How much did they pay you?"

"Five hundred bucks."

Peter whistled. "Please, Clint! I was caught up and…"

Clint held up a hand. He tilted his head, motioning towards the hallway. "I won't tell. You were here on time as far as I know. Jarvis will be another story, but you're the genius here."

Peter lit up. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

"Shut up and don't tell your aunt."

Peter ran into his bedroom, collapsing in a heap onto his bed. He fell asleep smiling.

He had the best family in the world.

Please R&R! This is for my BFF.

SMH


End file.
